


Reluctant Surrender

by Tomstinkerbell



Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston RPF
Genre: D/s, Dominance, F/M, Forced Orgasm, NSFW, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex, Submission, dom!Tom, dominant Tom, dub con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 02:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7147952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomstinkerbell/pseuds/Tomstinkerbell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something short that came to me this morning.</p>
<p>OFC struggles against submitting to Tom</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reluctant Surrender

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick, meaningless one-off.
> 
> Excuse the lack of editing.
> 
> It's pretty close to rape/non-con - hence the warning - at the very least dub-con, although she's supposedly already given him her submission - she can't quite come to grips with it, though, apparently.

She pushed up hard against the hands that held each of hers pressed deeply into the mattress, one on either side of her head.

All she succeeded in doing was hurting her hands in the attempt.

She knew better. In a battle of strength, she would always lose to him.

Her legs were held almost uncomfortably wide apart by his imposing, threatening presence between them, and she knew there was no hope of closing them again unless he allowed it – and that wasn’t about to happen. And, if she brought them together around him in any way, she would be acting in opposition to her real intent – they would settle around his waist and pull him further into her, as if she was embracing what he was doing to her rather than trying her best – however feeble and futile that might be - to avoid it.

Soon, there would be another deliberately long, slow stroke that nearly drove her mad – nearly coaxed a reluctant moan from deep in the back of her throat no matter how hard she fought to suppress it – as she felt her body again being forced to accommodate him, whether she wanted to or not. She could feel the passing of every single millisecond of her humiliating defeat at his big, deft hands, feel acutely every highly sensitized nerve in that very intimate area that was involved in him even just presenting the broad, bulbous head of his sizeable cock against her nearly virginal opening.

She knew he was watching her intently – she didn’t think he had any other setting but unnervingly intent - at least, not with her. She knew he was cataloguing every whimper, every groan, every gasp she uttered and filing it away in that amazing mind of his for later – or sooner? – use against her.

“No – please - Tom!”

The smile that spread over his face was one his fans would never recognize – it was much too full of evil intent, although there was, in the background of his expression, a pocket of innocence - a calculated one, she suspected - and the combination of the two was simply too potent to deny.

She should have known better than to beg him – he liked that too much to resist the unintended invitation.

And, in an instant she couldn’t hope to prepare herself for, he had gathered the full force of his overpowering strength, snapping his hips forward and driving himself full-force into her body – a body that was not nearly as unwilling as she would have it be, as revealed by the pleasurably anguished cry she couldn’t help but expel as she felt herself being filled so completely by him.

She could hear the wet sounds of herself greeting him as he drove himself home within her – trying to wiggle and writhe and – in one terribly mistaken moment – arch herself up in pursuit of bucking him off of her. 

But, instead, all she managed to do was require her body to open itself to him even further, to surrender that last notch of herself to him as his triumphant chuckle drifted down to her cringing ears.

“That’s it, my sweet girl,” he growled huskily against the neck he was nibbling as he began to rock against her, each movement not only abrading his cock against the most sensitive spot within her, but also rubbing himself relentlessly against a clit that was now fully exposed by his sheer size and the depth of his presence within her, and rendered thus desperately eager for more of his attentions. “Surrender every bit of yourself to me, totally, and I shall reward you generously.” He said that, knowing it was the last thing she would do voluntarily. “Resist, and I will take it – and you - anyway – take more than you can imagine you have to give – and I will force you to enjoy every single second of it, until I feel your resistance crumble beneath me as you are overwhelmed by the desires of your own supposedly reluctant flesh.”

In her mind, she knew she was already conquered, already well past the point of being able to put up any kind of viable defense against what he was going to do to her.

But she was strong willed – something he had always said he admired about her – and hated to admit defeat, so she continued to struggle against him, forcing him to subdue her further, to reach down and capture legs that were trying – but failing miserably - to kick at his back, reducing them to uselessness, hung up – as they soon were - on his broad shoulders, pinning her even more firmly beneath him.

Now, she was well and truly trapped; her body left completely submissive to him – held open to him – with terrifying ease. There was nothing she could do now but to lie there beneath him and accept whatever it was that he did to her.

Knowing, as she did, that his main goal was to drown her in desire, to overcome her considerable will with his own, to use his strength and power to bring her to a peak that she would have vehemently sworn she didn’t want, to a body-blow of a mind – and will - destroying orgasm that would force her that much further into submission to him, to bind her to him in a way that she could neither resist nor avoid, and that – to her utter humiliation - she would both think about – and begin contracting automatically no matter where she was or what she was doing - and have wet dreams about for weeks – even months – to come.

But she defiantly continued to move the only part of her body that was still left under her control – her head, shaking it wildly back and forth, the power of coherent speech already brutally stripped from her – repeating one soft, obstinate word like a hushed incantation against him by sheer strength of will.

“No, no, no, no, no, no!”

Her chant had the opposite effect, though, as he redoubled his efforts, concentrating even more fully on her own pleasure, knowing that his would follow naturally in the wake of hers and unable to stop himself from answering her plaintive cry with one of his own, delivered much more powerfully, more deliberately – much more potently, on every dominant stroke.

“Yes.”

She didn’t give up easily, this one. It was one of the things he liked best about her. He could still hear her quiet defiance; her head still rolling back and forth with it.

It was blatant evidence that he still had not yet fully claimed her, and that was entirely unacceptable to him. He would have all of her, every time.

The next time he plunged violently into her, the shaking and chanting stopped, if only for a short time.

But it did return, although greatly diminished.

“No, no, no, no.”

This time, his powerful thrust caused a slight scream to erupt from her mouth – and her resistance seemed much weaker before she found her way back to it.

“Yes,” he answered. Implacable. Unyielding. And without a trace of anger.

Then, with practiced ease, he caught both of her wrists in one of his hands, slipping his free hand between them and finding that wantonly engorged button, slipping the rounded, slightly callused tips of two fingers over it, using her own plentiful juices against her as he also began rocking himself in and out of her, slowly at first, then with building intent.

They both recognized the exact moment when she lost the entirety of her battle with him. The incessant motion of her head stopped slowly and she began to arch her head and neck off the mattress instead, and then, finally, the sound of her protest died out abruptly as she took an impossibly deep breath – as if she had just swum to the surface after a long time spent underwater without oxygen – and let loose with an epic keening, somehow melodic wail that he knew signaled that her body had finally wrestled control from her mind, and that she was finally, completely his.

But he did not let up at all at that point – didn’t crow about his victory, nor even take time to savor it, because to him, it was not really complete until he had driven her over the edge.

Hips bucking mindlessly, fingers rubbing demandingly, he forced her into the sun, watching her burning up as she reacted to contractions that were nearly strong enough to stop him as he continued to bury himself insider her, holding her down with his body, with his intent, with his own indomitable will, until he felt the sun bursting within himself, too, spurting wildly, deep within her, holding her still to receive him as she helplessly milked the seed of her own defeat from him, continuing to spasm strongly around him long after he was completely drained and empty.

His head fell to her shoulder for long moments as he gulped for air, hair wet with sweat and curling slightly, body limp and exhausted.

Hers was still actively cumming around him.

So much so that he slipped off her, to one side, still holding onto her wrists, one leg over the nearest of hers, holding her open for him, knowing that - despite how she was still orgasming – her exhaustion would work in his favor.

She might – eventually – be able to resurrect the will, but she no longer had the ability to fight him. In these moments – in the aftermath – she was almost more his than at any other time.

And she was gushingly wet, he was delighted to find, as his fingers sought what they had already come to know well, raising himself up on his elbow so that he could watch her as he imposed yet another wild, primitive peak on her tired – but highly sensitized - body as she tried – incoherently – to beg him not to . . .

But he merely smiled down at her, almost benignly, and did it anyway.

When she came so late in the game like this, it was different from earlier – it was even more raw, more animalistic. It took finesse to be able to wring them out of her, but he had dedicated a good amount of time and attention to learn exactly how to do it to her.

And now he could bring her to orgasm screaming, crying orgasms at will, any time he wanted to.

And he almost always wanted to.

So, as he held her down, he subjected her to another, and then – more slowly – yet another ragged peak, until he could sense she had been most thoroughly sated.

Only then did he release her, but not so that he could roll away or leave her – or even so that she could do either of those things. Instead, he gathered her limp body to his, surprised – although he knew he shouldn’t have been - when his own rose again in insatiable need for her, but he ignored it in favor of cuddling her fiercely, unable to stop his hands from roaming possessively over her, his lips from pressing to her damp temple, although he knew she would have preferred him to leave her alone to collect herself.

She was much too self-contained for his tastes, really, this one. But he found himself at once annoyed and intrigued by that tendency of hers, and he never tired of breaking down the barriers she erected between them every time after he spent considerable time carefully destroying them.

But he couldn’t allow them to stand. She was his – by her own admission, although she had warned him that – even after having admitted that to him - that she wouldn’t make it easy on him to keep it that way - and he wanted her to be his in every possible sense of the word.

He could – he would - accept no less from her.


End file.
